


I've had about enough, losing trust

by StrawberryLane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Flowers, Fluff, Gen, Hiding, Hiding in Plain Sight, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), POV Child, POV Outsider, Post-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin Friendship, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Summer, prejudice against werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 05:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17298815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryLane/pseuds/StrawberryLane
Summary: Penelope isn't supposed to wander up the deserted gravel road just outside of the little village in which she, her brother and her parents live, but she just can't help herself.It is just so pretty.(When she wakes up from her unintentional nap in the grass, there's an unfamiliar huge, black dog sniffing at her face).





	I've had about enough, losing trust

**Author's Note:**

> I fear I've not written Penelope anywhere near as an actual eight year old child, so I do hope you forgive me. Because I do kinda like how she turned out. 
> 
> Title is from a song called Lines by bülow.

Penelope isn't supposed to wander up the deserted gravel road just outside of the little village in which she, her brother and her parents live, but she just can't help herself. The road – though it barely can be called one, with how overgrown and misused it is – is just so pretty, with all the wild flowers growing as far as the eye can see. Daddy always tells her she shouldn't venture down the curling road without adult supervision – what he means when he says that is that she has to wait for him to accompany her, to hold her hand – but he's always busy working. And besides, she's a big girl now, nearly eight years old. Nearly old enough to go to Hogwarts. Certainly old and entrusted enough to walk to the post office alone and the post office is just beside the old road. A little further can't hurt, right? At least that's what Penelope tells herself as she takes a big step over a puddle left over from the night's rain. It's late summer now, the autumn is coming, the leaves changing colour already. The flowers are still thriving – she learnt that word last week, thriving. Such a funny, useful word. She makes sure to slip it into conversations at the dinner table at every opportunity. Mathias, her older brother – already at Hogwarts, the lucky duck – just scoffs and calls her a know-it-all, but it's all right, because daddy just smiles and tells her it's a good thing she's always got her nose stuck in a book. Says it's a good sign for the future of his business, if the daughter of the owner of the local bookshop is a bookworm.

Penelope sometimes thinks her daddy is more worried than he lets on, about his wonderful little shop, full of treasures. There's even some muggle ones, books meant for children. The pictures in them won't ever move, but Penelope doesn't mind. Reading is fun anyway. And she's always reading about brave heroes and heroines and happy endings. So she steels herself, steps over yet another puddle, gripping the stick she picked up outside the corner shop tightly in one hand, and lets the tall, waving grass off the side of the road envelop her. It feels like a slightly prickly hug. Like those hugs aunt Mildred always gives her when she comes to spend Christmas at Meadowside. Aunt Mildred is always wearing wool cardigans that itches against Penelope's skin. She doesn't understand how aunt Mildred can stand the itchiness. Penelope can't stand itchy things. She's hidden the knitted socks aunt Mildred gave her last Christmas at the very back of her closet and hopes on one ever requests she wears them. Horrifying things.

She's wandered far enough now that the grass is almost taller than she is. Not that she's particularly tall, daddy always calls her Short stack – he says Penelope is such a mouthful – but still. The grass is taller than she is, and though she can't really see, she thinks she may have gone further than she's ever had before. Daddy always prefers to keep to the actual road, overgrown as it might be, and always finds reasons to go back before they ever get far. Daddy's no fun to go exploring with.

Secretly, Penelope thinks he's just scared of the old, run down cottage that stands deeper down the road, where the trees begin. The huge, dark forest she's been forbidden to enter. And Mathias too, which takes away some of Penelope's anger. It's strictly forbidden, daddy always says. No going near the forest, there's dark things in there. Monsters, like the ones beneath her bed. Centaurs, of which humans should stay well clear. Trolls. All kinds of terrible things. Sometimes, when she's awake in the middle of the night, and the full moon is blinking down at her, like the ghastly version of the sun, Penelope thinks she can hear them. The monsters in the woods, fighting and howling at each other.

Shaking her head, determined not to think of such horrible things now – not when the sun is shining and the air is thick with the smell of wild flowers and everything is sunny and warm – Penelope wanders on. She walks and walks, sometimes even reaching a full chest above the grass, picking flowers for all she's worth. How glad daddy will be, when she brings home so many wonderful flowers she thinks, holding them up to sniff at the intoxicating smell of them.

At one point – surely she must soon reach the edge of the meadow? – she decides a rest would be helpful. After all, she will have to walk all the way home carrying the huge amount of flowers she's picked and they are quite a bit heavier than she'd ever expected flowers to be. So she lays down in the high grass, gazing up at the sun. It's nice, like her own little private world. Mathias wouldn't be able to go here, she thinks. It's her own space, one she won't have to share with teasing older brothers.

*

She never meant to fall asleep, laying there in the grass, but she must have. Because she wakes with a shudder, suddenly feeling very cold. Quickly, she notices three things. 1) it's much darker now, the sun being on its way down, and 2) there's a dog's snout in her face, sniffing at her, and 3) there's a pair of boots standing near her feet. Well, there's a man wearing a pair of boots standing near her feet, but it's the boots she's noticing first. They look worn and scruffy. Much like the rest of the man does, when she's managed to sit up and the dog's stopped sniffing.

"Oh, good," says the man mildly, "you're not dead. Padfoot here got a little worried, didn't you Pads?"

He speaks to the dog as if it understands him completely. The dog – Padfoot – is huge and black fur all over and he wags his tail and opens his mouth in what can only be the dog version of a grin.

"I fell asleep," Penelope informs them both, gathering up her flowers. It's already dark, daddy must be worried sick. "I didn't mean to, I was only resting my eyes for a minute." That's what daddy always says when he falls asleep in the armchair after dinner, his glasses askew and his tie untied. "Just resting my eyes."

"It's all right," the odd–looking man replies. "Might I ask where you belong? Little girls like you probably shouldn't be out this late on their own, am I right?"

Padfoot wags his tail even harder. He seems to be laughing.

"Meadowside," Penelope replies, struggling against the primroses that has found their way into her mouth. Despite the prettiness, they don't taste good. "I'm Penelope."

A frown flies past the man's face, disappearing within seconds. "Penelope. You're Thorfinn Podmore's daughter then, aren't you?"

He says it like he's asking a question, but Penelope gets the feeling he already knows the answer. "I'm Remus," he says. "Remus Lupin. I live over at The Oaks."

The Oaks. That's the name of the old cottage down the road, the one daddy doesn't want her to go near. "Better not disturb the tenants," he says when she asks why. "I'm sure they'd rather be left alone."

"That's a pretty name," she informs Mr. Lupin, who smiles. She's gathered all her flowers now and she really should get home.

"Can I walk you home?" asks Mr. Lupin, kindly. "Make sure you get home to your father all right?"

Daddy always says she shouldn't trust strangers. Especially not strange men, for some reason. And Remus Lupin certainly qualifies as one of those, Penelope thinks, with his old, frayed suit and the scars across his face. They don't look new, but still. But then, daddy always says she should be polite and listen to the adults, and Remus Lupin is decidedly an adult and also asked very politely.

"Yes," she says, as politely as she can. Besides, he doesn't look all that dangerous, even if he's a strange man. The dog, Padfoot, has stood up, already running in circles around both Penelope and Mr. Lupin. "He's doesn't bite," Mr. Lupin informs her. He must have mistaken the uncertain look on her face as being scared of Padfoot. "Padfoot's the best, most well-behaved dog in all of Britain, aren't you, old boy?"

Padfoot barks, as if to confirm his status as the best dog in all the country. Penelope hoists her flowers up again and starts walking. She very decidedly doesn't look behind her to see if the man follows her. As it turns out, it's harder to walk home when the flowers obscures her vision and the grass is once again taller than she is. And it's proper dark now, the sun setting above the forest behind them. Glancing up, she confirms that Mr. Lupin doesn't seem to have this problem. Most of his body is moving well above the grass.

He has seemingly noticed her problem too, because he bends down slightly, offering to carry her flowers for her. "Thank you," she tells him and tries not to wince when he grips the fragile flowers much harder than she would have. But again, daddy always says you should be polite to adults, so Penelope shuts her mouth and trudges on. Padfoot keeps close to her, making sure she spots all the traitorous sticks and hidden holes in the ground well before she steps on them, so she doesn't stumble and fall. Padfoot's a very thin dog, Penelope thinks. He's the type of dog daddy would yell at to get away from their door, to find somewhere else to beg for scraps. Usually, there's a lot more bad words involved, but Penelope's not supposed to know those kind of words, so she won't repeat them. His fur is scraggly and coarse and he doesn't smell too good when she grabs at it to keep from stumbling, but his eyes look kind and soft. And his tongue is hanging out, which she thinks means he's happy.

*

In the end, they don't get all the way home to Meadowside. Daddy's waiting for them by the time they reach the Post Office. He's pacing back and forth, calling her name. He looks worried, his bowler hat that he always wears falling off his head when he swirls around, holding his wand out in defence when Penelope and Padfoot emerges from the tall grass. Padfoot freezes, whimpering. Penelope doesn't freeze.

"Daddy!" she shouts, running towards her daddy at the sight of him. "I've missed you so much!"

He catches her once she reaches him, lifting her up into the air and hugging her close. "Poppet! Where have you been?!"

Suddenly, Penelope feels ashamed. "I'm sorry," she says against her father's neck. "I went into the meadows even though I'm not supposed to and then I picked all these flowers and I was only going to rest my eyes for a moment but then I fell asleep and then when I woke up Mr Lupin was there and it was dark and I'm so sorry."

Her father hugs her closer, murmuring, "It's okay. Never scare me like that again, okay? You know you're not supposed to go into the meadows on your own. And – did you say Mr. Lupin was there when you woke up?"

"Yes. And Padfoot." Penelope turns around the best she can in her daddy's arms, twisting until she can spot Mr. Lupin and Padfoot, who have both come to a stop over by where the tall grass begins. Mr. Lupin is still holding her crumpled mess of flowers in his hands. "I have to say thank you to Mr. Lupin for walking me home. And he carried all my flowers," she tells her dad, wriggling until he lets her go and sets her down on the ground. Before she can run back to the man and the dog – both looking slightly out of place and, for some reason, a little uncomfortable, though Penelope can't for the life of her understand why – daddy quickly grabs her hand so she's forced to bring him along.

It's not far, but the closer they get, the more uncomfortable Mr. Lupin looks. When Penelope comes to a stop in front of him, he forces a kind smile onto his face. Penelope knows it's a forced smile, because she sees her dad force one at least once a week when old Mrs Spinnet and her daughter comes into the shop.

"Thank you for walking me home, Mr. Lupin," Penelope says, holding her arms open as Mr. Lupin transfers her flowers from his hands to hers. "It was very kind of you."

"Thank you," Mr. Lupin tells her. "I'm glad you thought so. Mr. Podmore," he says, expression serious when he addresses Penelope's daddy.

Her dad's face looks like it's made out of rocks. Closed off and unmovable. "Lupin," he says. "Thank you for finding my daughter and returning her." Return her? Penelope wonders. Is this one of those things daddy always warns her about when tells her not to talk to strangers? Is he afraid one of them might not return her?

Mr. Lupin shrugs. "I'm just happy to help." Then he grins down at Penelope. "Nice to meet you, Miss Podmore. I'm sure we'll see each other around the village plenty. Say goodbye, Padfoot," he says and Padfoot reaches out to give Penelope's hand a quick lick before running off into the tall grass and disappearing.

Mr. Lupin's grin slips off his face. "That's me off, I guess. Have a good night, Mr Podmore. Good night, Penelope."

With that, he turns around slips after his dog, disappearing into the darkness. Penelope looks after them for as long as she can, clutching her flowers and straining her eyes in the warm light from the burning lantern hanging outside the Post Office.

Soon, her father ruffles her hair. "Let's go home, poppet, shall we?"

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it!


End file.
